


Dimension Δ-212

by a_side_of_sin



Series: Dimension Δ-212 (Law School AU) [1]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: C137cest, Law School AU, M/M, Multi, dimension Δ-212, rickcest - Freeform, rickmorty, there will almost inevitably be some rickcest at some point, Δ212cest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 17:31:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5214566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_side_of_sin/pseuds/a_side_of_sin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My rickmorty law school AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Intro to Law

Let me tell you about Rick and Morty of Dimension Δ-212:

  
At some point after he ditches Beth and her Mom, but before he wanders back into Beth’s life, Rick gets bored with whatever he’s doing and decides to go to law school. To the surprise of no one, he’s just as much of a genius in the legal field as he is in everything else that he does. Halfway through his 3L year, he decides he’s bored with law, too, says fuck it and drops out. He never thinks about it again, until way down the line 12-year old Morty mentions he wants to be a lawyer when he grows up. Rick doesn’t tell anyone, but he sits for the next Bar exam, and pulls the highest score in the state. He continues to not really do anything with his Bar license, but he gets published in a few law reviews (something to do with the interaction between science and the law) and spends at least two weeks clerking for the Supreme Court. (He totally clerked for Scalia and spent the whole two weeks needling him, until Scalia went nuts and threatened to stab him.) Ten years later, nobody in the family even knows Rick is an attorney, but they’re all super excited for Morty, who just got accepted into Midwestern’s Law School…

Morty barely graduates high school, because Rick gets bored (notice a theme?) and drags him out of class to go on adventures. He makes a point of going to undergrad at a safety school several states away, thinking it will get him away from Rick, but nope. He doesn’t remember what he said when he was twelve, and ends up majoring in philosophy. He writes his senior thesis analyzing all of the morally questionable shit Rick has done over the last four years. (At one point, his draft went: “And in conclusion, if you give me an A on this paper, Rick will be really annoyed and it will be very satisfying for everyone, because he’s a giant asshole.”) After he gets his Bachelor’s, he decides to do the least Rick thing he can think of (just to piss his grandfather off - they were having a fight that week), and go to law school. His first day of class, he walks into the assigned room for his Torts lecture, only to find Rick with his feet propped up on the table next to the podium, wearing a blazer and reviewing the text book. He quickly checks the syllabus online, and to his horror, sees that the class is being taught by Professor R. Sanchez…

At least the way I have this laid out in my head, everything that happens in canon happens here (except Rick shows up two years earlier). Rick did whatever he did when he was young (came to the U.S. from [country] and learned English?), then went to college for something sciency. I picture him getting married in college (one of those nerdy dudes who marries his first girlfriend) and Beth being an “oh shit it’s too early for this” accident when he was 22. When he was 27, he finished his doctorate, realized he had never done anything interesting with his life and took off on his wife and his kid. (He’s Rick, he’s an asshole.) There’s about twenty-five years after that we don’t know much about, but we do know that the Flesh Curtains and intergalactic terrorism happened. Law school happens somewhere in that twenty-five year period, but it doesn’t really matter when. Rick finally wandered back into Beth’s life just a few years before canon, when Morty was 11 and he was 53.

By the time he graduated high school, Morty had spent seven years running around the multiverse with Rick. It had messed with him in a lot of ways, and he thought he hated Rick for everything he had put him through. It was the big driving force behind him going away to college (or at least that’s what he thought). When he got to undergrad, he realized he was really running away from something else entirely. Rick’s not about to let him go, though, and continues to show up and drag Morty off on adventures. There’s a year or so of weird tension, and then their relationship finally gets physical around the end of Morty’s sophomore year of college (I might write this sometime). They’ve been rickmorty ever since. When the law school AU picks up, Morty is 23 and Rick is 65, and Morty doesn’t have any idea how weird/kinky law school is about to get.


	2. Tort Law

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morty shows up to his first ever law school class, only to find that Rick is the professor. Rick makes him look like an idiot in class, but then makes it up to him afterward in his office. Everybody sins.

“Negligence, n. (14c) 1. The failure to exercise the standard of care that a reasonably prudent person would have exercised in a similar situation.”  
-Black’s Law Dictionary, 9th Ed.

Dragging his new rolling bag behind him, Morty tore through the door of the classroom, terrified of being late to his first ever law school class. He had actually arrived to campus 45 minutes early and settled in, but failed to notice that he was in the wrong room. When the professor started talking about international law, it hit Morty that he wasn’t where he was supposed to be, and he dashed across the hall, desperately hoping that the Tort Law professor hadn’t started yet. He had heard that a lot of the professors that taught law school first years, or 1Ls, wouldn’t let students in after they started talking. If he missed his first ever lecture, he might just die of embarrassment.

He let out a sigh of relief as soon as he heard the dull roar of people introducing themselves to their neighbors and getting out computers and notebooks. However, he wasn’t nearly so lucky when it came to seating. In the first classroom, he had arrived early enough to pick the perfect seat, half way back and off to the side – close enough that he could see the board but far enough away that he wouldn’t be easily noticed. But as he entered the correct room, he realized that the only seats left were in the front row. He sighed, and settled in to the seat at the end of the row. If he had to be up front, he could at least avoid being in the center of the room.

After digging out his computer and his textbook, Morty glanced over at the professor, and his jaw hit the table in a caricature of shock. Rick was sitting to the side of the lectern, wearing a charcoal gray blazer over a Flesh Curtains t-shirt, and skimming over what looked like an attendance list. Morty watched as he ran a pen down the list, and grimaced when he saw the smirk on Rick’s face as he reached the bottom of the page. Before Morty could have the chance to get up and ask him what the hell he was doing there, Rick stood up and the room quickly went silent.

“All right, l-listen up. I’m Professor Sanchez, and this is Torts. I don’t really give a fuck about introURRRPP, introductions, so let’s get started. Somebody brief Blyth v. Birmingham Waterworks. Y-you.” Rick pointed at a girl in the second row who had shot halfway out of her seat. The girl launched into an explanation of the case, and Morty took the chance to pull up the syllabus for the class through the law school’s online learning center. He had read the first week assignment list way in advance, but he had assumed that the first day of class would be syllabus day, like it was in undergrad, so he hadn’t bothered to go over it before the semester started.

There it was, on the third line of the syllabus:

Tort Law  
MU – Fall 2023  
Prof. Ricardo Sanchez  
Office hours: None, just send an email  
Contact #: See previous line

“Prof. Ricardo Sanchez” could only mean a world of trouble for Morty. He listened as the girl trailed off, and waited for Rick’s reaction. Rick apparently thought it was good enough. He shrugged, then turned to the whiteboard and scribbled out some quick notes: “Negligence = duty, breach, causation (actual & proximate), damages.”

“All, all right, so basically, this is an old-ass English case which sets up the standard for negligence. Now, whatsherface,” he paused to wave at the girl, who started to call out her name but appeared to think better of it, “covered the common law definition of negligence, but here’s what it actually means. W-w-when, when a person owes a duty of carURRPPPe to another person, and he fucks up, a-and his fuckup causes the other person to suffer, the first guy has been negligent. We’ll come back to what each of these things means next class, just write it down for now. Okay, so keep going. Somebody brief U.S. v. Carroll Towing.” Nobody raised a hand this time, and Morty wasn’t about to, either. The facts of the case had been relatively simple, but he didn’t really understand the point.

Rick scanned the room, and grumbled. Morty thought he heard something like, “…too hungover for this…” He looked at the attendance list, and then called out. “Smith, Mortimer. U.S. v. Carroll Towing. Now.” Morty flushed a deep red, knowing Rick was only doing this to embarrass him. But he also had read a bunch of blog posts on how law school worked, and he knew that he couldn’t screw this up.

“So, um, um there was this, this barge. And, um, this company w-w-was supposed to be towing it, but they didn’t t-t-tie, they didn’t tie it up right. The barge floated away and, and hit this other boat, and it ended up sinking. The, the p-p-plaintiff argued that if the tow, if the towing company had, had had a person on duty, t-then they could have saved the barge before it sank.” Morty stumbled his way through the explanation.

“No. It was defendant’s arguURRPPPment. The f-federal government was the plaintiff, and they should have had someone watching t-t-their own barge. So h-h-how did Judge Learned Hand decide the case?” Rick interrupted. Morty’s blush deepened, and he sank down into his seat. “Smith, sit up. What was Learned Hand’s formula?”

“The, t-t-the judge said that if the burden of taking adequate precaution is less than the probability of an injury multiplied by the gravity of the injury, then the defendant was negligent.” Rick turned around to the whiteboard again, and wrote “B<PL.” “So what does it mean, Smith?” Morty could see Rick’s lip curl up in a sneer. “I don’t know, _Professor_.” Morty had run out of patience with his grandfather. He didn’t even know what the man was doing here, much less why he felt the need to call Morty out, given that the class had 50 people in it.

 

“See me after class, _Smith_. The formula is a balancing test, a-a-a way of deciding if the defendant actually should have changed his behavior.” Rick kept going with what sounded like a complicated explanation of the formula, and Morty tried to keep up as he wrote more notes on the whiteboard. Over the next hour, Rick cold-called four more people to brief cases, and Morty was a tiny bit relieved when he was just as hard on everyone else. At the end of the hour, Rick stopped and let out an echoing belch. “All right, get out. R-r-read sections three through five for Monday. Start with _Vaughn v. Menlove_. D-don’t be late. Don’t show up if you aren’t prepared.” He turned his back to the class shoved his notes into his copy of the textbook, then strode out the door.

 

The guy next to Morty turned to him as they were packing up their stuff. “Holy crap, dude, it is going to suck to have that guy for an entire semester. And you got extra screwed – already having to see him after class. Good luck, man. Anyway, I’m Ryan. Are you in Contracts with Neidermeyer?”

 

“Yeah, as long as S-sanchez doesn’t try to expel me to m-make, to m-m-make an example of me.” Morty sighed. “I better get this over with. I’ll see you then.” He trudged out of the room, pulling everything in his bag, and looked at the map of the law school that they gave him at orientation to try to figure out where the faculty offices were. He felt his phone buzz, and pulled it out to see a text from Rick: “2047.” Morty assumed it was an office number, and resigned himself to the worst. He might have been in some kind of weird relationship with his grandfather, but he knew that didn’t mean Rick would go easy on him.

 

Morty wound his way through a labyrinth of offices until he found himself in front of 2047, then knocked and pushed his way in. He closed the door behind himself, and waited to see what he was going to get from Rick. The older man lifted himself from his seat at the desk, and stalked around the furniture to get up in Morty’s space. He pressed Morty back into the door and trapped him there, with one arm on each side of his head, then leaned in to suck a mark into Morty’s neck with a little growl.

 

It was definitely not what Morty was expected, and it actually pissed him off a little. He pushed Rick off him, ducked under his arms, and went to sit at the chair in front of the desk. “W-w-what the hell are you even DOING here, R-rick? You, y-y-y-you aren’t an attorney, how did you get a job teaching Torts? And what the h-hell was that about, c-c-calling me out in the f-first class ever? Are you t-trying to punish me or something? L-like, I know you didn’t w-w-want me to go, to go to law school, but this is too much, Rick. Explain.”

 

Rick sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He crossed back to plop down in his chair, and fished his wallet out of his pocket. He pulled out a laminated card and tossed it across the desk at Morty. Morty picked it up to examine it, and realized it was a State Bar ID card. “Rick, did you forge this? Seriously? A-are you, i-i-is this just a really elaborate bit? R-ri-rick, I don’t get it.”

 

“Yeah, I see that, _Morty_. Let me try to dumb it down for youUURRGGHHHH. Rick Sanchez, Juris Doctor, l-l-licensed to practice here, and in N-nevada and Arizona, for eleven, eleven years. Check the ASU Law Journal from Spring 2021, M-morty. They published my, my analysis of chemistry as a d-driving force in patent law. I-I-I can show you how to use W-w-westlaw if you want, if you want to read the rest of my shit. A-anyway, I-I got the job to surprise y-you, but, but if you don’t w-want me here, I can resign.” Rick pulled his flask out of a desk drawer and took a long pull of whatever he had in it today. “F-fucking boring as shit anyway. I f-forgot w-w-why I dropped out of law school in the first plaURRGGHHHce, but th-this, this is the worst.”

 

“No, R-rick, hold on. H-how, how are you licensed if you didn’t graduate? W-wait, never mind, n-n-not important. I, I-I-I don’t want you to g-g-g, to resign, but w-why were you such a dick today in class?” Morty protested.

 

“Just, j-just covering our asses. N-nobody is going to think we’re screwing in here if t-they just assume you, you’re getting screamed at for m-mouthing off.” Rick smirked. “So, s-so how about it, M-morty? W-wanna show your professor w-whURRPPP, what you know?” He shot Morty a lecherous look from across the desk.

 

“Goddamn it, R-rick. This is ridiculous.” Morty sighed. Rick gestured him across the desk with a finger, and Morty gave in. He went around and settled into his grandfather’s lap, leaning them both back in the rolling chair. He reached up to pull Rick in for a quick kiss, and felt the older man perk up beneath him. Rick shifted to get a better grip on Morty, and Morty could feel his interest. Morty pushed Rick’s blazer aside and mouthed at his collar bone, leaving a wet spot on the black t-shirt. Rick groaned in Morty’s ear, and reached down to cup his ass.

 

“D-don’t w-w-worry, M-morty. I’ll, I’ll explain Learned Hand later. I, I’ve got some other th-things I want to show you with my hands right now.” Rick chuckled to himself as he lifted Morty off of him and stood him on his feet. He maneuvered his grandson so that Morty was facing the desk, then reached around him to unbutton his pants. “Speaking of hands, Morty, put yours on the desk. That’s it, good boy.” He slid the zipper down, and Morty let out a shaky exhale at the feeling of Rick’s hand so close to his crotch.

 

Rick worked his pants and his boxers down so they were sitting just below the curve of his ass. “Spread y-y-you, y-your legs just a little, and lean forward for your old grandpa, huh Morty?” Morty did as he was asked, and felt hot breath ghost over his ass. Rick gave one cheek a little nibble, causing Morty to rock forward, straight into the hand that Rick had left in front of him and which now wrapped around his cock. The older man used his other hand to pull Morty’s cheek to the side, and Morty heard him suck in a breath at the sight. Without warning, Rick swiped his tongue over Morty’s entrance, and Morty thrust forward again, rewarded with perfect friction from Rick’s hand.

 

Rick was never one to hold back, and he buried his face in Morty’s ass, licking and sucking like it was the best thing he had ever eaten. Morty squirmed, desperately trying to rock back onto Rick’s face, to feel his tongue slip inside of him. Every move he made had Rick’s hand dragging over his cock, slipping over soft flesh and squeezing tight around him. Rick finally relented and gave Morty what he wanted, thrusting up into him with his tongue, giving Morty just a taste of the sensation of being filled.  Morty let out a strangled groan. “God, R-r-rick, yesssss.”

 

“That’s ‘ _professor_ ’ to you, M-morty.” Rick pulled back for just a second before diving back in, this time wiggling a finger in beside his tongue. He worked both in and out of Morty’s hole for a few minutes, delighting in the way Morty was rocking his hips, back onto Rick’s finger and tongue, forward to press into Rick’s hand. Rick could feel the pre-come slicking over his hand, spreading over Morty’s cock with each thrust. Soon Morty started to whine, “R-rick, grandpa Rick, pr- _professor_ Rick, m-m-more, please more…”

 

Rick withdrew his finger, but kept mouthing at Morty’s sloppy hole as he fumbled blindly in a desk drawer for the bottle of lube he had stashed there. He finally found it, and pulled back from Morty entirely. He squeezed out some lube onto his fingers, and listened to his grandson whimper quietly at the loss of sensation. He figured Morty was probably open enough at this point, so he pushed two fingers up inside the younger man, causing Morty to squeak and rock forward. Rick had already replaced his other hand, so his cock pressed up into slippery warmth, and it helped him relax a little around the fingers that were stroking inside of him, seeking out his prostate.

 

Rick grazed his fingers over the spongy tissue and Morty cried out, “RRICKKK!!!” Rick smirked quietly to himself and started scissoring his fingers, stretching Morty out and skimming over his prostate ever few strokes. He felt Morty start to tremble, and added a third finger to the two that were already working inside of him. He tightened his other hand around Morty’s dick, jerking him steadily, in time with the pace of his fingers. He felt Morty clench around him, felt the muscles contract and tighten around his fingers, and it felt for a second like Morty’s cock managed to get impossibly harder, before he came with a groan. “Ohhhh, P-professor Sanchez, fuckkkkk…” Thick spurts of come shot out over Rick’s desk, a creamy white contrast to the finely polished wood.

 

He pulled his fingers out slowly, taking the time to admire how Morty’s hole automatically tried to pull him back in. With his other hand, he stretched out across the desk, raking his fingers through Morty’s release, and brought them up to his grandson’s mouth. Morty willingly lapped the come off of Rick, humming contentedly. When he was finished, Rick reached for a box of tissues that he had stashed with the lube, and used a few to gently clean Morty off, as well as wipe the remaining come off of his desk. He tossed the tissues into the trash, and reached for his grandson, pulling his underwear up and zipping him back into his pants. He was frankly shocked that Morty was still on his feet.  

 

Up to that point, Morty hadn’t noticed the small couch tucked back in the corner of the office, but he was glad to sink down onto the soft cushions after Rick practically carried him over to it. Rick curled up beside him, running his fingers through Morty’s curls, and whispering praise into his ear. “S-so good for me, Morty. So pretty when youURRPPP, when you come for me like that.” Through lidded eyes, Morty noticed the bulge at the front of Rick’s pants, waved toward it and mumbled, “R-rick, do, do you want me to h-help you out w-with that?”

 

“Nah, Morty. That, th-th-that was for you. To, to make up for being hard on y-you in class. Besides, l-l-look, look at you. You’re going to pass out any second.” Morty just grinned, and let out a deep yawn. “T-thanks, Rick. C-can you blame me? My first class was, was really hard. The pr-professor r-r-r-really took it out on my ass.” The kid’s eyes closed, and Rick snorted. He muttered to himself, “Y-yeah, well, you might have seen it coUURGGHming if you had read the syllabus, you little shit. Talk about negligence.” Morty leaned his face into Rick’s neck and pressed a soft kiss below his ear. Rick continued to stoke Morty’s hair as his grandson drifted off.

 

He was pretty sure this was one of his best ideas yet.


	3. Property Law

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morty really needs to study for his property law exam. Rick comes up with an alternative teaching method that’s sure to help Morty with the harder issues. He’s going to need a little help though… Everybody sins.

“Property. (14c) 1. The right to possess, use, and enjoy a determinate thing (either a tract of land or a chattel); the right of ownership.”

                                                                                                -Black’s Law Dictionary, 9th Ed.

 

 _I’m going to fail Property…_ It was the middle of reading period, the week before his first round of law school final exams, and Morty could feel an anxiety headache coming on. For the most part, his first semester had gone pretty smoothly. He loved his classes, he found the material interesting and engaging, and he had made friends with a couple of people that he sat near during lecture. On the few occasions that he had been faced with something that he just didn’t get, Rick had been able to explain it to him, even if it did come with a little extra torment from his grandfather-cum-torts professor.

 

But there was something about property law that just evaded his grasp. Morty had tried commercial outlines, flashcards, and extra study sessions with Professor Cantero during office hours, all to no avail. Somewhere around midterms, Rick had dumped all of Morty’s study materials off his desk and tried to tutor the 1L himself, but it seemed like with this subject, even Rick wasn’t going to be able to get the concepts across. Morty had somehow gotten a C- on the midterm, but he knew he had just got lucky with the curve.

 

So now, seven weeks later, Morty was spread out on the futon in his tiny studio apartment, trying to make heads or tails of the outline some 2L had given him. He was just as lost as he had been after the first week. He had been trying to work out the difference between fee simple absolute, fee simple determinable, and fee simple subject to condition subsequent, but it was like his head was full of fog. He knew the concepts weren’t that difficult, but they kept getting tangled up, a gnarled mess inside his brain. He dropped the outline he had been holding up, desperate for a break, and it fluttered down over his face.

 

Morty heard a portal open, and let out an exaggerated sigh. He didn’t bother to get up, he knew it was only a matter of seconds before Rick would be hauling him bodily off of the couch. Sure enough, he felt Rick swipe the outline off of his face, but before he could yank him up by the arm, Morty shrugged him off. “M-man, get out of here, R-rick. I’ve got this exam in th-th-th-, th-three days. I don’t have time to, to help you smuggle intergalactic contraband right now. Be-besides, sh-shouldn’t y-y-you, shouldn’t y-you be grading our torts finals?”

 

Rick snorted, amused at the idea. “Nah, M-morty. I’m not grading that shiURRRPPPPt. I’m gonna take all your finals back into, into the faculty stairwell. I-I-I’m gonna mark each step with a grade, and, a-and then I’m going to throw your f-fucking garbage essays in the air. W-w-whatever step they land on is what grade you’ll get, M-moURRGGHHty.” He pulled his flask out of his lab coat, and tossed his head back to take a long swallow.

 

“Jeez, Rick, you can’t do shit like that, y-you’ll get fired if anyone finds out.” Morty was too stressed out to deal with it right now, though. He flopped back down on the futon, and let one arm fall over his eyes. He didn’t need to see Rick to know that the man was staring at him, trying to decide whether it was worth it to drag Morty with him or not. Rick apparently decided that it was, because he grabbed Morty’s arm again, and this time didn’t let go when Morty tried to shake him off. He pulled his grandson until he was sitting upright, then reached under his armpits and lifted the younger man over his shoulder. Morty was never quite sure where Rick got the strength to pull stunts like this. Sure, he was in good shape, but the man was 65 for fuck’s sake.

 

“RICK! Seriously, s-seriously, put me down, I have to study. C-come on, not right now, R-rick, knock it off.” Morty wriggled around, trying to get Rick to drop him, but Rick just tightened his grip around Morty’s waist, pressing him more firmly against his shoulder. “Shut up, Morty, you piece of shit. I-I-I, I’m gonna help you.”

 

Morty couldn’t see around his grandfather’s torso, but he heard him fire a portal, and felt the familiar suction as he was carried through it. He recognized Rick’s house immediately, even from his inverted position over Rick’s shoulder, and he knew that the older man had just been too lazy to drive to come get him. Rick dropped him on the sofa, and reached for his flask again. Morty rose immediately, and made his way into the front hall to look for the keys to the ship. “G-g-god damn it, R-rick, I don’t have time for this. W-w-where are the car keys? I, I know you aren’t going to let me, let me portal home, so f-fine, I’ll drive, but I need the keMMPPHHHHH…”

 

A hand was pressed over his mouth, cutting off his protests, and he felt the weight of a warm body pinning his arms behind his back. He was maneuvered around, and was hit with a burst of terror when he saw his grandfather in front of him in the hallway, when he realized that he had no idea who was holding him. He kept his eyes on Rick’s smirk, his heart hammering erratically in his chest, desperately trying to get his impulses under his control in case this was going to come down to some kind of fight. Then, from behind him, a gruff voice spoke into his ear. “Your grandpa told y-you, told you to shut up, MoURRGGHHty. Are you always so disobedient?”

 

 _Another Rick._ Morty didn’t know what was going on, but he was starting to get seriously frustrated with the whole situation. He bit down on the hand of the Rick that was holding him, causing the man to withdraw it, hissing. The Rick in front of him, his Rick, quirked an eyebrow at him, and Morty lost it, shouting at him, “RIICCKKKK! Y-you can’t just, just kidnap me and let some other Rick manhandle me wh-wh-whenever you feel like it! Jesus, I h-h-have to study!!!”

 

His grandfather snickered, but didn’t bother to respond. The Rick in front of him snapped his fingers, and he was tossed over a shoulder for the second time in five minutes as the Rick behind him tugged him off of his feet. Morty groaned, resigning himself to the fact that property law appeared to be off the table for now. His head thumped against the other Rick’s back as he was carried up the stairs. When they reached the second floor, he was unceremoniously dumped onto Rick’s bed, and found himself staring up at two nearly identical Ricks. Fortunately, he could still pick out which Rick was his, thanks to the hint of ink on his left wrist that wasn’t covered by the lab coat. It looked like the other Rick didn’t have any tattoos, so it shouldn’t be too hard to tell them apart, as long as he didn’t get too distracted.

 

Morty stared sullenly up at the Ricks in front of him. He found it difficult to watch the other Rick for too long, there was something off about him, something cold in his eyes. But his Rick was still smirking, and the obnoxious grin stayed on his face as he turned and locked the bedroom door. Turning back to face Morty, he finally deigned to explain to his grandson what was going on. “I said I was going toURRRPPP, going to help you Morty, didn’t I? W-w-well, well I am. This is Rick from uh… C-137? Yeah, C-137. He’s here to h-help me teach you property. D-doesn’t know shit about the subject himself, b-but I heard he was pretty good at giving lessons to snot-nosed little Mortys like you, so I, so I called in a favor.”

 

Both Ricks reached for their flasks simultaneously, and Morty narrowed his eyes at them. He wasn’t sure how this could possibly have anything to do with property law, but he figured there was no getting away from it at this point. His Rick swallowed down a swig of whatever liquor he was saturated in today, and continued speaking. “So. S-so. Just to keep things straight, heURRRGGHHH, here’s how we’re going to do this. For the purpose of this exercise, h-he, he’s Rick. You’ll address me as Professor Sanchez. Be a good boy, M-morty, follow instructions, and b-between the two of us, Morty, we’re going to explain property in a way that you’ll _definitely_ understand.”

 

Well, there was one thing Morty was sure of: this was certainly the first time he’d ever found himself getting hard at the mention of property law. He still couldn’t imagine how they intended to teach him, but the prospect of getting off was looking better every minute, especially as the other Rick was swiftly undressing himself. And hey, if he was going to take a break from studying, this was a pretty good way to spend it… He forced himself to let go of his anxiety about the exam, knowing there was nothing he could do about it now, and relaxed back onto the bed, ready to be shown a good time, even if property law fell entirely by the wayside. After twelve years of adventures with his grandfather, and three years of being… them, Morty had become an expert in knowing when it was best to just cave before the unstoppable force that was Rick.

 

Rick noticed the second that Morty relaxed, and the corners of his mouth turned up for just a second. “G-good, good boy, Morty. Now, strip for your professor. Th-that’s it…” Morty obediently pulled his shirt over his head, and tossed it off to the side near where the other Rick’s clothes had landed. He quickly removed his shoes and his socks, and let them fall near the edge of the bed, before pushing his pants and his boxers over his hips. He didn’t need to see his Rick’s face to know the salacious look that was being thrown his way as he slid his pants off. The other Rick was more of an enigma with his icy stare, but Morty didn’t need to look higher than his waist to know that he was interested. He already had a hand on his stiff cock, and while Morty watched, he ran it slowly over his length. Morty licked his lips, swallowing back a moan that was already threatening to escape at the thought of two Ricks at once. He leaned back on his elbows, putting his body on display for the two men standing over him, spread out and waiting for instructions.

 

His Rick hummed with approval, and gestured to the other Rick to join Morty on the bed. The only one still dressed, he set to stripping off his layers, while the other Rick leaned on his hands and knees over Morty. The alternate version of his grandfather ran a hand over his torso, stopping to pinch at a stiff pink nipple, and Morty arched into the touch. The man brought his mouth down on the other taut little rosebud, and Morty gasped as he felt the coarse wetness of the other man’s tongue laving over him.

 

Off to his left, he could see that his Rick had shed the lab coat, his shirts, and his shoes, and was now standing over them, the tip of his dusky cock sticking out from his unbuttoned slacks. Rick didn’t move to join them on the bed yet, contented for a moment to just watch himself draw sharp breaths out of Morty, before he began to teach. “So far, so good, M-morty. N-now. I’m going to go over y-your outline with you. We’ll c-cover the concepts that are g-giving you the most troURRRGGHHble, and explain them in a way that’ll stick with you. P-p-p-, pay attention to what I’m telling you, Morty, because distracted students don’t retain information…”

 

Morty groaned, knowing already that Rick was asking the impossible, but ready to try, more for the sake of his orgasm than any hope he might have had for finally understanding property law. He felt the bed sink a bit as his Rick sat down a few inches away from where the other Rick was sucking tiny purple marks into his skin. His Rick… _Professor Sanchez_ … watched as the other Rick… _just Rick_ … mouthed along his collarbone and up over his throat, grazing his teeth over Morty’s Adam’s apple. His professor let out a soft breath. “O-okay, Morty. Y-you know that property law concerns real property. And you know that, that real property means land and anything erected on it… heh…” He paused, and Morty could practically hear him smirking. “N-now, under the laws of the United States, people can’t be considered property, c-can they, Morty?”

 

Rick growled into his throat and leaned all of his weight into Morty, flattening him into the bed, and Morty felt his cock twitch. “N-n-no, Professor… Th-th-thirteenth, thirteenth amendment…” He didn’t get farther than that, as Rick had sealed his lips to Morty’s, then proceeded to work his tongue into the younger man’s mouth. Morty felt a little off, kissing a Rick other than his own, and he turned his head to the side, but Rick grabbed his jaw and guided his face back up with a firm hand.  

 

“Very good. B-but, just for now, in this room, _you’re_ the real property, _Morty_. So, if you w-were, if you were _Rick’s_ property, what rights would Rick have to you?” The professor reached down to run his hands over the bulge in his pants, watching as his grandson understood his point, and opened himself up to the other Rick. Morty parted his lips to allow the other man access to his mouth, let his tongue push up in to tangle with Morty’s own. He whimpered a little at the fierceness of the kiss, at the knowledge that Rick could take whatever he wanted, that his professor would let the man.

 

“Such, such a smart boy, M-morty. You, y-you’re right. Rick could do whatever he wanted, if you were his property. Of course, we all know you’re not… Y-you belong to me, Morty.” The professor ran his hand up the inside of Morty’s thigh, tracing his fingers over the sensitive skin, following the curve of his leg up to his groin. He cupped Morty’s balls in his hand, and gave a soft tug on his sack, a reminder of his ownership. “N-never foURRGGHHHget that, Morty. S-so, so you’re mine, but I’ve given Rick a license, a temporary right to access my property, just for today.”

 

Rick had been worrying Morty’s lower lip between his teeth, but when he heard the professor speaking, he released the soft flesh and pulled his head back from Morty’s, gazing ferociously down at the younger man with a look that spoke of lust and violence. Morty shivered, unable to meet Rick’s eyes for the intensity of his stare. He looked over at his grandfather, his professor, hoping to find more warmth there, but instead he was faced with a similar look, icy blue eyes roaming over his body and staking their claim.

 

It felt like there was an electric current running through the room, a sharp, staticky tension that had Morty’s body flushing hot. He closed his eyes, burning under the weight of both Ricks staring at him, so he couldn’t see how Rick had moved down the bed, but he could feel the mattress shift. His eyes shot open again when he felt damp heat suddenly surround his cock, and he looked down to see Rick nestled between his legs, swallowing him down to the base.

 

His professor let out a heady moan as he watched how the other man wrapped his lips around Morty’s dick. Professor Sanchez removed the hand that had been grazing over his own clothed erection, opting instead to tuck it under the waistband of his slacks, running his hand through the slick mess that was accumulating there. He worked the slippery fluid down over his cock, coating himself, spreading the wetness to ease the way for his hand, tugging now at his firm length, feeling each slide of his calloused palm.

 

“Y-you like that, doURRGHHHn’t you M-morty? Like when the, w-when the man who owns you lets his friends have their way with you? And l-look. Rick likes it, too. W-watch him, Morty. See how desperate he is, with his mouth on you?” Rick groaned around Morty’s cock, and the vibrations sent a thrill of pleasure running through Morty’s body. “N-now, Rick would probably like it, like it better if I granted him an easement. See, easements last _forever,_ Morty. If, if I gave R-rick an easement, he could, c-could come back and use you any time he wanted…”

 

Rick continued to suck Morty, the pressure of his mouth so hot against Morty’s length, and it was everything he could do not to thrust up into the other man’s mouth. At one point, he couldn’t help himself – he felt the other man press all the way down, felt the head of his cock slip back into Rick’s throat, and he couldn’t stop how his hips shot up, desperate to get even deeper into that slick warmth. Without warning, he was hit with cool air on his dripping flesh, and watched as Professor Sanchez pulled Rick off of Morty by his hair. Rick growled at the alternate version of himself, but didn’t retaliate. “B-but I-I-I’m not that genURRRPPPerous, Morty. So, so he’s only allowed to touch you while I say he is. As you can s-see, I can revoke his right to touch, to touch y-you at any time.”

 

His professor nuzzled down between his legs, filling the space where Rick had been, sending warm breaths ghosting over his skin and chills racing up his spine. He felt Professor Sanchez pull one of his balls gently into his mouth, tongue running over soft flesh, careful not to scrape his teeth over the delicate sac. The other got the same treatment, before his professor nosed further down, pressing Morty’s legs apart as he mouthed at the skin between his sac and his entrance. Morty watched as he made some kind of hand sign to Rick, and before his professor’s lips reached his hole, the man was wrenched back from Morty’s body by rough hands.

 

Morty wasn’t left wanting, however. Rick picked up where Professor Sanchez had left off, tonguing at the puckered flesh of Morty’s entrance, working his rim open with the pressure of his mouth. His professor didn’t seem perturbed by the interruption, and continued his lecture, finally working his pants down over his hips and kicking them off to the side of the room. “I-in this case, considering that I’ve revoURRRPPPked his license, Rick’s current attempt to, to claim you would constitute adverse possession. H-he has no legal right to you now, M-morty, but if he continues to use you in a way that is exclusive, continuous, open, notorious, and hostile, he can, c-c-can create one.”

 

As he pressed his tongue up into Morty, caressing his inner walls with wet heat, Rick lifted one hand and flipped Professor Sanchez off over his shoulder. The professor chuckled, at the same time that Morty let out a soft “ahhhh, Rick….” He went on, “R-right now, Rick is the only one touching you, Morty, so his claim is, is exclusive. It is open, because I can see that it’s h-happening, and notoURRRGHHHrious because, be-because I actually know about it. And he’s clearly hostile. S-s-so, so if I don’t want him to establish himself as your new owner, Morty, I have to put a stop to it.”

 

Morty felt Rick’s tongue recede from his body as his professor forced the man away from Morty again, but as with before, Morty was not left empty for more than a few seconds. He hadn’t noticed, but apparently at some point after he had lost his pants, Professor Sanchez had found a bottle of lube, and had slicked his fingers up. As he pressed one slippery digit inside Morty, the younger man glanced over his professor’s shoulder, seeking out Rick. Rick was apparently not inclined to wait for directions this time, and was already moving up the bed. As his professor slid his finger back and forth into Morty, Rick crouched down, his knees on either side of Morty’s shoulders. He rubbed his thick cock against Morty’s lips, leaving a glistening trail of pre-come on the younger man’s mouth.

 

On a particularly well-placed stroke of his professor’s finger, Morty gasped, and Rick took the opportunity to slide his dick into the warm wetness of his mouth. He didn’t push forward right away, just slicked the tip in and out of the sealed ring Morty’s pursed lips created. Rick kept his thrusts shallow, but lower down, Professor Sanchez had added another finger, and was seeking out Morty’s sweet spot. Morty’s ears were ringing with from all of the sensation, but he could still hear his professor. “L-let’s imagine a little scenaURRGGHHio, Morty. Let’s pre-, let’s pretend that I’m the kind of guy who’s re-really into sharing. So w-what would happen if I signed a, a deed with Rick? An agreement that we would each have a, h-have a half-interest in you, be equal partners in ownership.”

 

Morty groaned, caught up in the feeling of Rick pressing between his lips and his professor rocking two fingers inside of him, stroking his inner walls. His professor was moving his hand steadily now to match the unconscious rolls of Morty’s hips, his silent plea for more, and the man continued to talk while he fucked his grandson with his fingers. “Of, of course, s-since it’s important to me that there’s always a Rick to take care of you, I’d put in a right of survivorship. If I died, Rick would get to keep you forever… But, wh-while I was alive, he and I would be, would be joiURRGGHHnt tenants, Morty. Rick would have all the same rights as me, be allowed to do anything to you that I could do to you.”

 

At that point, Rick ran out of patience, and he shoved his hips forward, thrusting his cock all the way into Morty’s throat, causing Morty to gag. Drool slid down the corner of Morty’s mouth as he desperately tried to suck oxygen in through his nose, but Rick was too big, he was cutting off Morty’s air supply entirely. He felt tears forming in the corners of his eyes, when finally Rick pulled back with a groan, cold eyes locked on Morty’s wrecked mouth, giving him only a second to inhale deeply before he shoved back in.

 

Between his legs, his professor was scissoring his fingers, stretching Morty out, stroking over his prostate and getting him ready for more. He added a third finger, and then a fourth, pressing into his grandson, driving him crazy. Each time Professor Sanchez hit home, a little moan would escape Morty, and Rick could feel the hum around his dick. Rick started fucking into Morty’s mouth with abandon, slicking in and out and picking up the pace, grunting each time he felt the tip push back into Morty’s throat.

 

Morty could feel the tears streaming down his face, and knew that he was a mess, his chin covered in spit. He could feel his neglected cock pulsing against his stomach, dribbling out pre-come onto his abdomen, desperate for any kind of touch. He couldn’t see anything past the silvery-blue of Rick’s pubic hair, but he could picture it: The debauched look on his professor’s face as he slammed his hand into Morty, the angry red of his cock as it throbbed against his stomach, Rick’s detached stare as he looked down at his dick sliding in and out of Morty’s mouth.

 

Without warning, both men pulled back from Morty, and he couldn’t stop himself from crying out, “PLLEAASSEEE!!!” He heard the two Ricks snicker in surround sound, and then a pair of hands was lifting him, sitting him up and turning him over, so that he was on his hands and knees on the bed. He had only moments to get accustomed to the new position, before he felt the blunt head of his professor’s cock pressing at his entrance, demanding access and shoving forward into Morty. The momentum pushed him toward Rick, and he once again found himself swallowing around the other man’s swollen length.

 

His professor spoke softly, as he gave Morty a minute to adjust. “Now, if I left out the right of survivorship, we would just be tenants in, tenants in common.” He rocked forward, rolling his hips into his grandson, listening for any sign of discomfort, before pulling back slowly. “A tenancy in coURRGGHHmmon is a similar situation. Rick would still h-have, have all the same rights as me. B-but, but if I died, I could pass on my half ownership of you to someone else. Another Rick, maybe.” Morty moaned, and his professor gave another thrust forward. Rick wrapped his fingers in Morty’s hair, and used his grip to pull Morty further down onto his cock. Morty had thought it would be impossible to take the man any deeper, but he could feel the thick tip not just bumping the back of his throat but actually sliding down it.

 

Professor Sanchez finally started to pick up the pace, shoving into Morty more rapidly, launching him forward on each thrust to gag around Rick’s length. The feeling of being totally full was perfect, and Morty was getting into it, rocking his hips back to meet his professor, surging forward to get Rick into his mouth. He suddenly felt something else nudging at his rim, and he had thought this couldn’t get any better, but now his professor was urging a finger in alongside his throbbing dick. Morty could feel his own cock dripping pre-come, could feel the beginnings of his orgasm stirring low in his abdomen, and when Professor Sanchez added another finger, he cried out around Rick.

 

Rick pulled back from Morty’s mouth, running a hand over himself, and spoke for the first time since he had grabbed Morty in the hallway. “J-jesus, Δ-212, look at him. He loURRPPP, he loves this… Slutty little fucked out piece of shit. Y-you are one lucky Rick.” Rick grabbed a flask that had been discarded on the bed, uncaring if it was his or the other man’s, and took a long drink. He kept his hand wrapped tightly around his length, watching the law professor fuck into his grandson, adding a third finger to his dick and the two that were already inside the kid, making the kid sob out a litany of “ohhhh, oh fuck, Professor, Rriiccckkkk, jesus fuck Rick, please…”

 

The professor quirked an eyebrow at the alternate version of himself. “Y-you know, R-rick. In a, in a tenancy in common, the owners of the proURRRPPPPPperty h-have, have identical rights, and can, can u-use the property however they see fit. They have the right to, to occupy the property at the same time… the same _part_ of the property, even…” Morty didn’t catch what his professor was hinting at, too distracted by how fantastic it felt to have his ass totally wrecked, but Rick heard what he meant and moved around to stand next to where the other man was plowing into the kid. “How do you, do you want to do this?”

 

Morty felt the fingers withdraw from inside of him, and he whined at the loss, way beyond the point of caring about how needy he sounded. Then his professor pulled away from Morty entirely, and if the man hadn’t kept a hand on one of his hips as a steady reassurance, Morty thought he might have started sobbing. The hand on his hip guided him with soft pressure, and Morty turned so he was facing his grandfather, who was laying back on the bed. He couldn’t stop himself from letting out another whine, a soft cry of “Professor, please…”

 

He watched Rick, standing off to the side of the bed, slicking up his length and then tossing the bottle back to his professor. Even though Professor Sanchez was already coated in lube, he added some more, smoothing it out over his cock. The older man reached up and pulled Morty forward, grasping his hips and settling the younger man on top of him. Morty sighed with relief as he felt his grandfather slip inside, filling the emptiness that was threatening to drive Morty crazy. He rocked forward experimentally, feeling the firm drag of velvet flesh over spongy tissue, and moaned. He started moving more quickly, but his professor’s hands on his hips stilled him almost immediately, and his eyes widened in a silent question.

 

Professor Sanchez spoke directly to him, “C-c-, c’mere, Morty, lean in and give your professor a kiss, huh?” Without hesitation, Morty leaned down and pressed his lips against his grandfather’s, ignoring Rick for a moment… until he felt another blunt velvety hardness pressing at his entrance. His professor whispered into his ear, “Don’t w-worry, baby boy, grandpa knows what you need. I know how, h-how desperate you are to be stuffed full. I-I-I, I-I’m, _we’re_ going to take care of you.”

 

His professor’s fingers had done a good job of giving him the extra stretch needed to make this possible, but god, it was still so tight, so impossibly, perfectly tight. Morty whimpered as Rick pressed in alongside his professor, felt the head of his cock catch on his rim before he pushed past the resistance, sliding in to tight heat, nestled up against the other man’s length buried inside him. Both Ricks were careful to give him time to get used to the sensation. His professor kissed along his jawline, murmured nonsense about what a good boy he was, soothed his hands over Morty’s shoulders and over his chest. Rick gripped his hip with one hand, and traced circles into the small of his back with the other.

 

It felt like hours of waiting, but finally, finally, Rick moved, ever so slightly drawing his hips back, and pressing quickly back in. Morty and his professor both groaned. For Morty, it was too much and it was perfect. He was overstimulated and could feel all of the places where the two men’s bodies were connected with his own. The slow drag of Rick’s cock, pulling at the sensitive skin around his rim, pushing against his professor’s, forcing a constant pressure on his prostate was everything he had ever needed. He cried out, and it was like once he had opened his mouth, he couldn’t stop. “Ahhhh, ahhhh, ohhhh, Rick, fuck, Rick, ahhhh, f-fuck me, fill me upppp, fuck R-rick your cock, your cocks, oooohhhhhhhh pleasseeeee RIICCKKKKKK!!!!”

 

Morty swore he could feel when the last of Rick’s patience drained from his body, there was a microsecond where the man was perfectly still, and then he was slamming into Morty, fucking into him with abandon, relishing every drag of his cock along the other man’s, packed tight inside the kid’s body. Rick grunted on each thrust, each time his balls slapped up against the other Rick’s, each time he felt how Morty’s body stretched to accommodate him. Somehow, inexplicably, his professor was speaking to him again, murmuring into his ear. “N-now, Morty, let’s say I gave you to Rick. But, but let’s say I toURRRGHHHld him he, h-he could only keep you as long as he didn’t come inside you, Morty. He w-w-would be your owner in fee simple determinable. You would be his, forever, no questions, but, but the second he blew his load in your body, M-morty, you would be mine again.”

 

Between the gravelly voice in his ear, the primal grunts and the slap of flesh from behind him, and the feel of two thick cocks crashing together inside him, Morty was about to lose it. He was gasping now, tears streaming down his face, so perfect, so wrecked. Rick pushed up into him once, twice, and then stilled, and Morty could feel his hot release, filling him impossibly fuller, trickling down around his professor, slicking against his inner walls. Rick pulled out of him and Morty groaned, but his grandfather was right there, whispering filth, keeping him grounded in the moment and not focused on the sudden emptiness. “L-looks like you, y-you’re all mine, Morty. Now why don’t y-you be a good boy, and ride grandpa’s cock?”

 

Morty was a desperate, sweaty mess, and there was not anything he wanted to do more in the universe. He raised his hips, slammed himself back down onto his grandfather, grinding himself on the other man, feeling how his throbbing length pressed up against his prostate. With both hands on his professor’s chest, he lifted himself, dropping himself again like a stone, desperate to get him deeper, deeper… He didn’t even notice when a portal opened behind it and the other Rick disappeared through it.

 

He worked himself against his grandfather, harder, faster, and it was so good, so awful, so perfect. He slammed himself down, “Ahh, Rick, I-I-I, fuck, RICK…” and when he felt the old man’s hand grasp his dick, a groan of, “Come for me, M-morty,” he was done. “AHHH RICCCKKKKK YESSSSSS!!!!!!!!” He shot spurts of white between them, watched it land on his professor’s chest as he felt another load of come released inside him. Morty sighed, rocking himself back a few more times, working his Rick through his orgasm and riding out the last waves of his own. He finally collapsed forward, and made the effort to roll sideways off of his grandfather.

 

Stretched out, plastered to the older man’s side, Morty threw an arm over Rick’s torso and snuggled into him. Rick rubbed his hand soothingly up and down Morty’s back, and murmured praise into his ear. “S-so, so good for me, M-Morty, so perfect, so beautiful h-how, how you took us both, you did so well baby, I’m so proud of you.” As his heart rate settled, Morty lifted his head, and finally realized the other Rick was no longer with them. “Wh-wh-what, wh-where…” His grandfather cut him off. “Th-that was our deal, M-morty. H-he had to, had to come first and then fuck off out of here.”

 

“Wh-wh-why, Rick?”

 

“It was vital to the lesson, MoURRGHHty. See, I needed for it to be just you and me, Rick and Morty, so I could explain the most important property law concept of all. Fee simple absolute, Morty. It means you, y-y-you’re mine, Morty. Only mine, forever, a hundred percent only Rick and Morty forever, no conditions, no questions.” His grandson giggled, and Rick wrapped his arms around the kid, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Don’t worry about your exam, M-morty. Grandpa’s got you.”

 


	4. Mental Health Law

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morty has a panic attack during a bar prep presentation. Rick is there (sweet, understanding, and slightly out of character) to soothe him through it. No smut, just fluff. TWs for mental illness, panic attacks, self-harm mention.

“So you have the option to attend live, in-class lectures, watch lectures streamed straight to your computer, or study any time with videos available on demand. The winter course starts on December 13th, so we do recommend signing up as quickly as possible…”

 

The presenter for the commercial bar preparation course continued to ramble on, something about passage rates and unlimited essay grading, and Morty tried to focus. This was the night that presenters came to MU from all three of the largest bar preparation companies and tried to explain why each of their (largely identical) programs was better than the other. He had been uncomfortable from the minute he stepped into the law school’s large mock courtroom, but the presentation was mandatory, and he would get marked down a half letter grade in his for-credit bar prep class if he skipped.

 

Next to him, his friend Ryan was completely ignoring the presenter. He had just learned that the companies weren’t handing out free iPads this year as part of their gimmicks, and that the reason was that the school had forbidden it. Morty could see him typing out something about “overcharged for tuition” and “refund the difference in price.” The taps of the keys were driving him crazy, making it even harder to focus.

 

“In conclusion, there are only 97 days before the bar exam, and we hope you’ll spend them with BarGlee.” The crowd cheered, and Morty tried to take a deep breath, but wasn’t very successful. There were too many people in here, too much noise… 97 days. Had he really just said 97 days? Another attempt at drawing air. Morty could feel the anxiety building somewhere around his liver

 

(he could hear Rick in his head – ‘ _That’s not where your liver is, M-morty, and even if it w-was, anxiety comes strictly from, from the brain._ ’)

 

and he reached for the pill fob he kept on his keychain. He shook a double dose of Vistaril out into his palm and swallowed it dry.

 

The next presenter was at the podium now, and was already launching in to why his company was better than the one that had just finished. Morty knew he needed to pay attention, but he figured it was equally important to not have a full-fledged panic attack when he was surrounded by 150 of his colleagues and the dean of the law school. He let his eyes flutter shut, and tried to focus on just breathing. _In… out… in… out…_

 

But he could still hear Ryan furiously typing, and now the guy behind him was whispering to somebody else about how the CEO of Themax had broken away from BarGlee because he “disagreed with the philosophy.” Morty could hear his pulse thudding in his ears, and he tried to choke it down, tried to hold on and wait for the mild sedatives to kick in. Why was the Vistaril taking so long? He really needed to talk to Rick about getting something more potent than just an allergy medication, if these presentations alone were enough to set him off. He dreaded the thought of the actual bar exam…  

 

 _In… out… in… out…_ he could feel his breath speeding up, and he tried to remember that count he had seen somewhere on the internet, something like inhale for 4 seconds, hold it for 7, exhale for 8… He couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter, he wasn’t getting enough air, he had to inhale more often than that or he was going to end up gasping. Up at the podium, the presenter was clicking rapidly through previous reviews of the company before wrapping it up. “All right guys, I’m Nathan, if you have any questions, I’ll be waiting outside. I look forward to working with you for the next 97 days!”

 

 _In.. out.. in.. out.. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe._ Fuck. Morty knew he was breathing too fast. He could see Ryan in his peripheral vision, staring at him, probably trying to decide if Morty was about to throw up all over the table in front of them. Morty could feel himself starting to sweat, and he tried, he really tried to breathe, but it was like his lungs were too tight, he wasn’t getting enough oxygen, he couldn’t breathe. _In.out.in.out._

 

The third presenter was up, and Morty knew he just had to make it through fifteen more minutes. He tried to swallow down the lump in his throat, the urge to cry, the lack of oxygen, but he was dealing with a case of dry mouth (stupid fucking Vistaril, all of the side effects, none of the primary effects). _In.out.in.out._ Ryan was straight up staring at him now.

 

 _Inoutinoutinout_. Morty reached behind him for his bookbag. He needed something sharp, something bright, to pull him back into the moment. His rubber band, fuck, where was it? Side pocket. Okay, okay. _Breathe. Breathebreathebreathebreathe_. “So guys, 97 days!! Here’s why Caplam is the best there is when it comes to bar prep…”

 

Morty slipped the elastic around his wrist and snapped it. Again. _Snap. In.out.in.out._ The sharp stings let him keep the room in focus. He had to breathe in when it hit his skin, out when he couldn’t hold it any longer. He kept up the snaps, sharp, sharper, stabs of pain on his body, nothing serious enough to be self-harm, but enough that it hurt like bright points of impossible light on his wrist _In.. out.. in.. out.._

 

Ryan leaned over and muttered to Morty, “If you snap that thing one more time I’m going to break it off of your wrist. You’re driving me nuts, man.” Morty couldn’t stop himself from letting out the first half of a hysterical, choked-off giggle. _Snap_. Ryan was the least of his worries right now. He could not have a breakdown in the middle of the large courtroom, he just couldn’t. _In.out.in.out. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe._ He could see the little red welts, the raised skin of his wrist, and he was trying to suck in air but it just wasn’t working oh god why wasn’t it working fuck…

 

“All right everyone, just remember that we bring you a personalized touch. Let’s get ready! Make the most of your 97 days with Caplam.” Morty tore out of seat, down the steps and out the door. He had made it to the end of the presentation without sobbing but he didn’t think he could hold out much longer. _Inoutinoutinout. Breathbreathebreathebreathebreathe._ A tear trickled down his cheek, he couldn’t keep it in and oh god someone was going to see fuck he needed to move…

 

He pulled his keys out, intending to dash for his car, but he realized that he had the spare for Rick’s office. Morty flew up the stairs and through the doors of the faculty suite. What did it matter that the stairs made it so that he couldn’t breathe? He already couldn’t _breathe breathe breathe breathebreathebreathe inoutinoutinout._ He rounded the corner and fumbled with his keys, searching for the heavy one that he knew opened Rick’s door. Jesus christ why wouldn’t the fucking thing open he was going to suffocate.

 

Finally, finally he got the door open, but threw it shut again just as swiftly as he had moved through it. He dropped his bag on the floor and sunk into Rick’s couch, knees curled up into his body, head tucked, making him into a little ball. He could feel the uncontrollable tears soaking the knees of his pants, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. 97 days, he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t pick a course and he was going to fail the bar and _breathebreathebreathebreathe_.

 

He reached for the rubber band to snap it again, but before he could let go of the tension, he heard a portal open in the office. Fuck Rick was here why was Rick here he didn’t even teach tonight Morty couldn’t deal with him go away Rick go away… Miraculously, his grandfather didn’t say a word. Rick just scooted in behind Morty’s back and spread his legs so that they were wrapped around Morty’s. He tucked his arms around his grandson and held him, gentle rocks while Morty wept and hyperventilated.

 

“R-rick I can’t do it Rick, you were right all, all along I-I-I, I’m an idiot R-rick I’m going to f-fail the b-b-bar and there’s nothing, nothing I can do about it.” He hiccupped, cutting off his sobs with a short spasm in his diaphragm. Rick reached up with one hand to stroke Morty’s head, pulling his fingers softly through Morty’s curls and gently rocking him, shushing in his ear, trying to help him calm down. _Breathe.breathe.breathe._

 

“Shhhh, M-morty, sh baby, grandpa’s here, I-I-I’ve got youURRRPP, Morty. Breathe in for me Morty. Good. Now breathe out… That’s it.” _In.. out.. in.. out.._ Rick was still rocking him, cradling Morty in his arms, and Morty’s tears hurt his eyes, the salt stung his face but he could feel his lungs expanding with oxygen. “Good, M-morty, y-y-you’re okay, Morty, I-I-I will always be here to h-help you M-morty. _In… out… in… out…_ Rick stilled, but kept his arms around Morty. He pressed his chest up against Morty’s back, so that Morty could feel Rick’s heartbeat echoing through their bodies. He let it be the only thing he could hear, the rush of Rick’s blood the only thing that was keeping them both alive, the dull thud of Rick’s heart the only thing that could make Morty’s beat at a steady tempo.

 

 _In through his nose…_ How did Rick even know he was in here? _Out through his mouth…_ Why had he shown up at exactly the moment that Morty lost it? _In…_ He must’ve been thinking out loud. “I-I placed some n-nano, n-n-nanoURRRGGHHtech in your wrist, M-morty. It detects any time you snap th-that stupid rubber band.” _Out…_ “I… I know that anxiety, Morty. W-we’re the same, you and me. I-I-I had, had to deal with it alone. I m-might be an asshole, Morty, but I will always be here when you need me.” _In…….._

 

 _Out……._ Morty could feel the second his heartbeat synced up with Rick’s. It was the only sound he heard, and that was fine.


End file.
